A thousand Martyrs I have made, <br /> All sacrific'd to my desire; <br />A thousand Beauties have betray'd, <br /> That languish in resistless Fire. <br />The untam'd Heart to hand I brought, <br />And fixt the wild and wandring Thought. <br /> <br />I never vow'd nor sigh'd in vain <br /> But both, thô false, were well receiv'd. <br />The Fair are pleas'd to give us pain, <br /> And what they wish is soon believ'd. <br />And thô I talked of Wounds and Smart, <br />Loves Pleasures only toucht my Heart. <br /> <br />Alone the Glory and the Spoil <br /> I always Laughing bore away; <br />The Triumphs, without Pain or Toil, <br /> Without the Hell, the Heav'n of Joy. <br />And while I thus at random rove <br />Despise the Fools that whine for Love.<br /><br />Aphra Behn<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-thousand-martyrs-i-have-made/
